


The Shuttle Incident

by syredronning



Series: Doctor series [2]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-08
Updated: 2010-09-08
Packaged: 2017-10-11 14:44:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/113558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syredronning/pseuds/syredronning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More challenges at McCoy's hands, and Jim tries to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Shuttle Incident

**Author's Note:**

> Loose sequel to [Battle Drills](http://syredronning.livejournal.com/1133068.html). I will call this the Doctor Series, for lack of better ideas. Many thanks to Ayalesca for beta; all remaining bugs are mine.

Originally, they wanted to meet for lunch.

At 1104 the first rumors crept through the academy's hall that there had been a major accident in one of the shuttle simulations. Hushed voices spoke of an explosion and fire but nobody knew if anyone had been injured. Jim wasn't surprised when McCoy canceled their date with a one-line text message right then.

However, he was surprised when he sat in the academy bar for the news report at 1800, and between the burned-out shuttle and the devastated looks of the helpers, Dr. Leonard McCoy delivered a brief, extremely professional statement about the recovery of three dead bodies on which autopsies would start immediately, his tense face on the screen annotated with the headline "Chief Medical Examiner for the Shuttlecraft Accident".

Of course, Bones was senior medical staff ever since the basic training, but it was highly unlikely the main hospital of Starfleet Medical would need the help of a barely third-year cadet for their autopsies – wasn't it?

Jim suppressed the nagging feel of something not being right until the next news came in. Three names were listed – Lana Thoran, Matt Brodrick, As'To - and damn if he didn't know them all. They had been in their year. Even worse – Lana had been one of Bones's few friends. A Trill that skipped the first year and joined in the second, extremely bright physician, and soon in a friendly contest with Bones for top of the class. Sometimes he'd find them in Bones's room together, debating about something, or laughing about something (yes, Bones could laugh, and when it happened it always seemed the most surprising thing on earth).

Jim didn't know if it had ever moved beyond friendship – although Bones had once admitted to having a soft spot for Trills – but in any case, knowing that Bones was forced to do the autopsy on Lana made Jim's blood boil in anger and shared pain. This just wasn't right. He paid his bill and left, walking straight toward the main building. And with every step, his anger upped a little.

Captain Pike cherished an open door policy; he'd see whether it was for real. The secretary's desk was empty, so he walked past it and opened the door without knocking. Pike sat on the desk, eyes fixed on the screen.

"Why?" Jim blurted out.

At first, there was no reaction at all. Then Pike looked at him. "Good evening to you too, Cadet Kirk. Care to enlighten me to what you are referring?"

"Why does it have to be Bones for this autopsy? Lana Thoran was a friend of his, and I'm sure that's noted somewhere in your pile of dossiers about us. They all were in our year."

"Ah." Pike sat back in the chair, straightening his uniform. "First of all, I have no influence on the decisions of Starfleet Medical." He placed his hands on the table. "However, he was chosen because he was her friend."

"Because? What a goddamn play is that?"

"Sit down." Pike gestured at the guest chair.

"I don't want to," Jim snapped.

"Sit. Down." Pike repeated. "That's an order. You remember what that is, Cadet Kirk?"

Jim stiffly sat down, closing his hands over the arm rests.

"Why did it have to be him?" he repeated.

"Because that's his future work," Pike said. "As medical staff on a ship, and especially as CMO, he'll always have people he knows under his hands. Crewmembers, friends…maybe even a lover. And he'll have to be able to perform at his best, no matter who it is on the table."

"He doesn't want to become CMO. He hates paperwork."

"He's one of the best, and he hates working under anyone who's not as good. That doesn't leave much room."

"So this was…an exercise, in a way?"

"Not one we'd ever have planned for," Pike said with a pained look. "It's the biggest fatal accident we had in eight years. But since it has happened, SFM thought it was the perfect test for McCoy."

"A test." Jim coiled his hands. "And what if he fails? What if it's too much for him?" What if it breaks him, Jim thought.

Pike looked at him, with that irritating I-can-read-your-mind stare.

"I've just read the results of your last command course," he said out of the blue. "You take losses very personally."

Jim raised his chin. "I don't like to lose."

"And that's a noble trait. But what will happen if one day, it is too much for you? Too many people lost under your command?"

"I don't expect this to happen," Jim said slightly defensively.

"But what if…?" Pike wasn't anything if not insistent.

"I hope I'll receive all the support I need to handle this situation," Jim finally said.

"So I think you've got your work laid out for you," Pike said and turned back to his computer. "Dismissed."

Jim went up and straightened. "Thank you, Sir. And - my apologies for coming in unannounced."

Pike accepted with a brief nod, then waved him out.

Jim Kirk went right to Bones' room, sat down on the bed and started waiting.

*

It was in the early morning hours when the dorm door opened, waking Jim. The lights went on to illuminate the man he knew so well… and had rarely seen so exhausted, so tired and worn-out. Against his habits, Bones obviously hadn't showered, bringing in the smell of burned flesh and death with his disheveled uniform. In his face, the stubbles and the deep shadows under his eyes showed the long night of dreadful work. Like in slow motion he stripped out of the jacket and the boots before he even registered the figure on the bed. He paused.

"Jim. What are you doing here?" Bones asked, his voice rough.

"I have been waiting for you." Jim slipped from the bed and walked to his friend.

"Why?" Bones said wearily. "It's really not a good time to hang around with me."

"I know. I know it all." Jim pulled Bones into a hug. At first, Bones resisted but then he gave in, hugging him back tightly.

"I'm so sorry, Bones," Jim whispered. "Lana was a great girl."

Bones pulled back, out of the hug. "Yes, she was." He inhaled deeply, brushing one loose fist over his cheek as if to wipe an invisible tear.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Jim said.

Their eyes met.

"Get me the medikit," Bones said and resumed his stripping, down to the briefs and then those were gone, too. He sat down on the bed, as Jim gave him the kit. Bones took the hypo and played with the settings. "Need to knock myself out for a while," was all his explanation. Then he slipped into bed, the hypo in one hand, quiet desperation in his features.

"Let me do it," Jim said gently and offered his hand. "Please."

Again resistance at first – then Bones' expression shifted, and he gave it over.

"Any favorite spot?" Jim said.

"Neck's always the fastest."

Jim leaned over, readying the hypo.

"Thanks, Jim, for coming over," Bones whispered. "Close the door when you leave, okay?"

"Sure," Jim said and pressed the load into Bones' neck. In the wink of an eye, Bones was gone.

*  
The next morning at 0649, Bones came into the mess, ramrod-straight in a fresh uniform with a padd in his hands, and walked crisply towards one of the coffee makers.

"Let me get you one." Jim rushed to his side and ordered the coffee on his credits.

"Thanks," Bones said, and slightly leaned against the machine. Looked at closely, there was still exhaustion and pain showing, which the shower hadn't been able to wash away.

"Maybe you could call in sick today," Jim suggested when he gave the steaming cup to his friend.

Bones smiled tiredly. "If everyone called in sick after a shitty day, you'd soon have no one left to order around, Jim."

He drank his coffee, which gave Jim ample time to reflect that in a way, Bones was one of the toughest guys he'd ever come to know, in a completely understated style that had nothing to do with the machismo men usually indulged in, fist fights and skirt-chasing and comparing who's got the bigger dick. And he'd do his damnest to make sure that Bones would make it through all the challenges that were laid out to him.

"Time for class," Bones said and shoved the empty cup into the recycler. "See you for lunch?"

"Sure," Jim said and walked the other direction, already planning for their evening distraction. Bones had earned one.


End file.
